


Ash and Dust

by SallySS



Category: Claymore
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bloodborne Fusion, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-16
Updated: 2018-02-16
Packaged: 2019-03-19 11:09:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13703238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SallySS/pseuds/SallySS
Summary: Small Valentine's fic for the Claymore exchange.





	Ash and Dust

**Author's Note:**

  * For [trapped-in-room302](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=trapped-in-room302).



Yharnam, a city swallowed up by the plague of beasts, a ceaseless tumultuous madness and a testament to a lack of fear. The city, in a fashion that honored it's history, looked from a distance to be set ablaze; the townsfolk with torches, bonfires in the streets, beasts strung up and consumed by that which purified all: fire. But it simply danced along to the beat of humanity’s drum, content in watching their own undoing.

Deneve watched over the night of the hunt from a lofty space, a lantern of incense at her side. She rubbed her leather gloved hands together; despite the fires there was a chill in the air. Though a hunter, Deneve found no sense of duty or obligation to ridding Yharnam of these men-turned-beast. Those of the town that hunted the monsters were monsters themselves -in spirit, and soon in physical manifestation- and so intervention seemed futile. It was simply monsters killing monsters.

Deneve only began to take notice of the proceedings when a certain uproar caught her attention. A building was swallowed up in an inferno, one the homes of unafflicted townsfolk. Judging by the size of the blaze, this was no accident. She made her way closer to the engulfed house without drawing the attention of the mad men gathered in front, whooping and hollering about cleansing, blind to the irony as they held weapons at the end of elongated arms and their faces sprouted the start of snouts and fur. They were drunk with bloodlust, and a difficult battle against a werewolf would not satiate them this night. Tonight they desired easy prey, one that would spill blood without quarrel, the only liquid that would quench the frenzy of the crazed. Deneve would give them no such delight.

She felt neither despair nor remorse as she cut them down, if anything she served them a kindness, killing them before they transformed completely. Her twin swords made quick work of the horde, and the gruesome scene she created would abate any other man-beast in the vicinity for a little while. Deneve sheathed her weapons and stepped closer to the flaming home, her hunters uniform doing well to protect her skin from the heat. A booted foot to the door, and it fell off its hinges, collapsing to the floor. She stepped inside, peering deep into the smoke and flames to try and pinpoint a human shape. 

“Come forth, I will protect you on this night.” Deneve shouted above the crackling and sounds of destruction from the home. Her eyes caught a glimpse of movement besides just the licking and dancing of flames; a woman crawling out of the soot of her fireplace, ironically the only respite found from the inferno. With quick but mindful movements, Deneve assisted the woman out of the burning wreckage, piggybacking her in the streets, and moving her to a place of sanctuary. 

It was a few hours the exhausted woman slumbered, and Deneve found no wounds inflicted upon her, nor even signs of disfigurement. She wracked her brain for reasons why this woman would be attacked, but little the crazed townsfolk did made sense to her. 

The woman stirred, confused at first to where she was, but not frightened. She saw her savior beside her and seemed to accept that even though what happened to her was traumatic, she was safe now. A jug on the floor was scooted towards her by the mysterious cloaked warrior.

“It's water, drink, you've inhaled much ash.”

She took the jug unquestioningly, uncorking it and swigging deep, the fluid seeming to reinvigorate her. She set the jug down beside her when her belly was sloshing full, now turning her attention to the mysterious vigilante. “You're a hunter. I've heard of them but I've never seen one. Can I see your face, brave hero?”

Deneve took off her hat and pulled down the cloth that obscured her face from under the eyes, down. The scent of her burning incense was stronger when her nose was not covered, and she detested the smell, but for now she would try to ignore it. “And you, ashen lady, who are you? Why was the horde after you?”

“My name is Helen. Helen the idiot as I am sure to be called by morning. I was outside when the hunt began, lost track of time. I ran home and locked my doors but they thought me a monster in disguise since I did not have my incense burning.” Helen fished a swathe of cloth from her bosom, a frilly little thing of silk with embroidered edges. She folded it, placing it over the hole of the water jug, and tipping it just enough to wet the cloth. She scooted over towards Deneve, and lifted the cloth to wipe the soot from around her eyes.

Deneve caught Helen's wrist in hand, but held it gently, simply pausing her. “That is not necessary, you will ruin your kerchief.”

Helen took her free hand to pull Deneve’s hand away, placing it back in her lap. “Had it not been for your intervention, this silly piece of fabric and my life would have been lost to the blaze.” She continued with her token of gratitude, Deneve putting up no more struggle, just closing her eyes and letting the woman do as she wished.

“What is your name, brave hero?” Helen was gentle with her strokes, turning the cloth over to a new side when one had been thoroughly soiled.

“Deneve.” Helen’s skin and clothing smelt of soot and smoke, and as it covered up the pungent and unnatural smell of the incense, Deneve enjoyed her presence in the close proximity.

“Well, lady Deneve, I am sorry to have caused you so much trouble this evening, and I am indebted to you from my rescue and continued watch over my wellbeing.” she shushed Deneve before she could protest. “Please grant me consent to show you my gratitude.”

Deneve opened her eyes when the cloth was drawn back, and she stared deep into Helen’s eyes. “I will not allow you to perform acts for me, to fulfill some skewed moral sense of debt and repayment.”

Helen leaned in and kissed Deneve, tender and sweet. “Alright, well what if I just wish to, then?”

Deneve raised her eyebrows, “I am a hunter of the church, I serve the will of humanity, so who am I to stand in the way of your desires?”


End file.
